In Death 32 - Treachery in Death

That’s not a problem.”
    “Can you and McNab get to the vehicle, wire it up so it doesn’t show on a standard sweep?”
    He tipped his head down, eyes narrowed on her. “I’m insulted you’d even ask.”
    “Fine. Peabody, generate a standard vehicle waiver, and we’ll make a few amendments.”
    “How are you going to decommission her vehicle?” Webster demanded. “Much less slip her the doctored form?”
    “I’ll take care of it,” Eve told him, careful not to so much as glance at Roarke. “Feeney, just let me know, asap, when you nail down the vehicle—and you could use your geek magic to get me the exact location of her old one.”
    He loved to watch her work like this, Roarke thought. How she laid it out, ran it through, timed it—even down to giving the nod for pie to relieve some of the tension in the room.
    He looked at her board now, thought of how deliberately she’d added one name, one image at a time so each had its own specific impact. So each mattered as much as the next. Not one melded group of bad cops, but individuals.
    Now, with the pie lending a less formal mood, she brought him into it. Clever girl.
    “From the conversation between Renee and Garnet Peabody overheard, we know Garnet owns property—tropical, beachy. I’ve asked Roarke, as expert consultant, civilian, to try to locate that property. If Garnet owns a little tropical paradise and has gone to any lengths—perhaps illegal lengths—to conceal that ownership, it’ll help wrap him up. It may help flip him, if and when we need one of her crew to flip on her.”
    “Not that I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Webster began, “but anything that scratches too deep at his financials, his assets—without the filter of a warranted search or IAB status, is going to alert him. Even with those, if he’s taken the precautions, he could catch wind of a sniff.”
    “Which is why I’ll have to be very quiet about it,” Roarke returned.
    “Listen, if you obtain any data by questionable means, the data becomes questionable when the lawyers start on it.”
    “I’m aware of that.” Roarke angled his head. “I’m married to a cop. Would you like me to tell you how it might be done, Detective?”
    “Go ahead.”
    “One might, particularly as a businessman with many interests and investments in transportation, generate a kind of survey. And as an example, we might collect data on how many men, with a certain demographic, travel from New York to a tropical location more than three times a year—the same location. It might be worth our while to increase our transportation services to those locations, and offer incentives to that specific demographic.”
    “Yeah.” Webster began to smile. “I could see it might.”
    “As our services include private transports, and it always pays to offer perks to those who could afford them anyway, we’d look at those individuals, particularly if we found those individuals owned property. People who own multiple homes and can afford to travel to them regularly are excellent customers.”
    “I bet they are. It’s a good angle. If you get a hit, let me know. I could work a filter from there, so you could take it down a few levels.” When Roarke lifted a brow, Webster nodded. “A filter sanctioned by IAB keeps it from edging into questionable.”
    “Understood.”
    “If that’s all for tonight, I’ve got to take off.” Webster pushed to his feet. “I’m meeting someone.”
    “As pertains to this?” Eve demanded.
    “No, as doesn’t pertain to this.” He shot Roarke a quick grin. “Thanks for the pie.”
    “I’ll thank you, too.” Mira stepped up as Webster left. “I’ll have profiles on the other officers, get them to you tomorrow. I’d suggest you find a way to talk with members of the squad prior to Renee’s command there, get a sense from them.”
    “It’s on my slate,” Eve told her.
    When the room finally emptied of cops, Roarke leaned back on Eve’s desk. “Alone at last. And I suppose we’ll be leaving shortly so I can decommission Renee’s official vehicle.”
    “I figured you’d enjoy it. A nostalgia thing.”
    “It would be more enjoyably nostalgic if I stole it.”
    She actually considered it for a moment. “No, it’s better to just take it out. But you need to do it so it looks like a regular—but severe—mechanical problem, not tampering. I don’t want her to be able to use it for, say, a week—and I want diagnostics to see it as a